


Hope Is a Dangerous Hole

by cold_feets



Category: House M.D., White Collar
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:30:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cold_feets/pseuds/cold_feets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilson tells him all about Tritter and House, and all the ways Tritter is making everyone’s life miserable in an attempt to get them to testify against House.  Wilson looks awful, shadows under his eyes and more lines on his boyish face than Neal remembers.  He’s clearly at the end of his rope, and considering that Wilson is friends with House, Neal knows that he has a pretty long rope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope Is a Dangerous Hole

**Author's Note:**

> Set post-3.6 in House-verse (in the midst of the Tritter arc), pre-series in White Collar-verse, with some fudging of dates because technically I think Neal would have been in prison at this point.

Neal finds him in the back, looking twitchy and out of place, his coat still on, his suit rumpled, his drink untouched. He isn’t entirely surprised; James Wilson was never very good at keeping calm under pressure. Or staying inconspicuous, for that matter.

“Jimmy.”

Wilson startles, but manages a tight smile as he slides out of the booth to shake Neal’s hand. “It’s been a while.”

Nearly two years, excepting the stray phone call around holidays or lunch when they both happen to be in the same place. Wilson keeps tabs on him because Wilson likes worrying. Neal sends him postcards because some part of Neal likes that someone out there wants to make sure he’s all right, even if they had never been close.

“I was surprised you called,” Neal says. He indicates to the bartender that he’ll have one of whatever Wilson is drinking as he slides into the booth, tossing his hat onto the seat beside him. “I thought you had some overpriced lawyer for this sort of thing.”

Wilson sinks back into his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m trying to look at the situation with an open mind. All possible angles.” He offers Neal a helpless shrug and gestures vaguely in his direction.

“Meaning angles that might be outside the realm of legality.”

“You’re the only person I could think of who understands things from both sides.”

“Well, I’m always willing to help out a friend,” Neal tells him, smiling as he settles back in his seat.

“Or your friend’s ex-husband,” Wilson clarifies.

“Or my friend’s ex-husband,” he concedes with a nod. Neal knows that Wilson didn’t have a problem with Neal, just his choices. It’s not news to Neal that Wilson never trusted him, _still_ doesn’t trust him. Wilson likes the safety that Neal being “Bonnie’s friend” provides. It means that Wilson won’t let himself get so wrapped up in Neal that he becomes his problem. Neal knows that Wilson has enough problematic friends.

Wilson tells him all about Tritter and House, and all the ways Tritter is making everyone’s life miserable in an attempt to get them to testify against House. Wilson looks awful, shadows under his eyes and more lines on his boyish face than Neal remembers. He’s clearly at the end of his rope, and considering that Wilson is friends with House, Neal knows that he has a pretty long rope.

“It’s not your mess, Jim,” Neal tells him at the end of it all because he’s not entirely sure if Wilson has anyone in his life right now who’s willing to point this out. “He finally screwed with the wrong guy, and he got caught. You don’t have to clean this up for him.”

Wilson finally picks up his drink with a bitter laugh. “I wrote him scrips. He stole my pad and forged my signature, and then I lied about it to cover his tracks. He _made_ it my mess.”

“No, _you_ made it your mess. Because that’s what you always do when it comes to House. He steals your prescription pads, then that’s on him, but you had to go and try to fix things for him.” Neal sits back and shrugs. “You want my advice? Take what’s coming to you and cut him loose.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” But Neal already knows why not because if there’s one thing that he can count on to never change, it’s Wilson’s blind devotion to Greg House. Wilson won’t look him in the eye. “That’s why Bonnie left you, you know. Because of House.”

“That’s why they all leave me,” Wilson says with a sigh and a sad chuckle. He tosses the rest of his drink back and rubs roughly at his face with his hands.

This isn’t why Wilson called him. This isn’t what he wants to hear. But it’s the best advice Neal has to offer given the situation. “Will you at least consider testifying?”

“I can’t,” Wilson says, voice muffled by his hands. “They’d take his medical license.”

“Not necessarily. There’s always deals to be made. Maybe rehab.”

Wilson looks at him. “You have _met_ House, right? You have to admit you have a problem before you can go to rehab. House...”

“Maybe he’ll change his mind if he doesn’t have a choice?” When Wilson hesitates, Neal presses on. “Think about it. Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing. How long have you been trying to get him in a program? This might finally be the push that gets him there.”

“Look, I can’t just throw him to the wolves.”

“House can handle a few wolves.” Neal’s always been fairly certain that House _is_ one of the wolves, but he doesn’t mention that now.

“He’s my friend,” Wilson says. “I know you have a hard time understanding that because you don’t stay in one place long enough to ever really get to know anyone--”

“I have friends.”

“You’ve got Mozzie. And you’ve got this Kate you told me about. And if one of them screwed up would you just wash your hands of it and walk away?”

Neal shakes his head.“No, absolutely not. I’d try to do what I could for them. But, Jimmy, somewhere around when they refused my help for the thirtieth time? I’d probably have to reconsider.”

Wilson starts to say something, but thinks better of it. He pulls at his tie, tugging it loose around his neck, and slumps back against the seat. Neal gestures for another round and beams at the waitress when she brings them over. She grins back and gives him a wink, and Wilson frowns in vague disapproval. Or possibly jealousy, Neal thinks, given Jimmy’s track record. It was the keeping it harmless bit that Jimmy could never get a handle on. It always escalated.

“Listen,” Neal says when the waitress walks away. “I wish I could tell you there was some easy way out of this, Jimmy. I do. Some loophole. But you’re not doing you or him any favors by lying for him.” He shrugs. “Mostly because you’re just not very good at it.”

Wilson blinks at him and then chuckles. “You’re right about that at least.”

“I’m right about the other things, too.”

“Yeah, well... Hey, do you have time? Do you want to grab something to eat?”

Neal shakes his head. “I’ve got a meeting soon. Next time, though?” He smiles brightly and hopes Wilson won’t ask too many questions.

“A meeting. Sure. Next time,” Wilson agrees. He frowns down into his empty glass for a minute. "If you ever needed a place to stay for a bit while you sorted things out..."

"You mean turned my life around. Got on the straight and narrow?" Neal asks with a grin. They’ve had this conversation before. Neal’s sure they’ll have it again. “Aren’t you living out of a hotel room right now?”

“I...” Wilson fumbles for words for a moment before he finally gives up and nods.

"Jimmy," Neal says, leaning across the table. "Why settle for Princeton when you could have Paris? I'm happy living this life. Doing what I do. Are you?"

"But you could do anything,” Wilson insists, throwing his hands up in the air. “You could be a lawyer or a doctor or--"

"I've been a lawyer. And a doctor. And just about anything else you could come up with."

"You're a thief," Wilson hisses, glancing around, worried that someone’s heard him.

“Ah.” Neal holds up one finger to stop him. “Alleged.”

“Yeah, sure, all right, ‘alleged’. You’ve still got the feds breathing down your neck.”

“It’s a game,” Neal says with a shrug and grin. “This is the most fun Burke’s ever had in his entire career.”

“And what happens when he catches you?”

“He won’t,” Neal says simply.

Wilson gives him a tired smile as Neal slips out of the booth, tossing a few bills on the table. “I’m not sure if I hope that’s true or not.”

Neal leans over to pick up his hat. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help,” he says. “Give me a call if you need anything. You’ve got my number.”

“At least until you change it again.”

He grins. “Mozzie always knows how to find me.”

"I’ll remember that. Tell him I said hi," Wilson says as they shake hands. It could just be the drinks, but he looks a little lighter, the smile on his face not quite as forced as before.

“Think about what I said,” Neal tells him.

“Yeah. You, too. I mean it.”

Neal smiles and gives Wilson’s shoulder a squeeze as he passes by. “I’ll take it into consideration,” he says, and then he walks right out the door without looking back.


End file.
